Sing
by MarcellusMiro66
Summary: Corey, Lacey, Phineas, Isabella, Lincoln, Ronnie Anne, and Sunset among others enter a singing competition in order to save a hotel from foreclosure. Corey and Lacey, on the other hand, are only in it for the sake of closure of past relationships. (Corey Riffin X Lacey Shadows)
1. Chapter 1: Gimme Some Lovin'

Hi, everyone, MarcellusMiro66 here! This is a Cartoon Crossover and part of the _Toxic_ _Scions_ universe. Like the 2016 film of the same name, this story takes the **_"Hey, Let's Put On A Show!"_** Cliché with a twist. The plot is practically _A Chorus Line_ Meets _Sing_. If you're wondering, _The_ _Toxic_ _Scions_ is not cancelled...not by a long shot.

Enjoy! If you can...

* * *

 _ **(Friday, November 18th 2016)  
** **(7:00 AM)**_

 ** _Down in Downtown City. . ._**

 _ **("Gimme Some Lovin" – The Spencer Davis Group** **)**_

Roger Baxter was a man child at heart, but he knew when to mature up when it came to serious matters. The possibilty of the Pawza Hotel falling and fading into foreclosure was one of them. He woke up early as per the course of seriousness and got dressed. It was a navy blue suit with a pair of black leather dress shoes and a solid red tie that he got dressed into. Blythe, her daughter, was dressed in a black leather jacket above a navy blue dress with a pair of black leggings and a pair of brown flat-bottomed boots. She was pulled out of her room and into the halls by her father, who continued to pull her as they both ran down the halls and its subsequent stairs,

"Dad, where are we going?"

"We're going to be late, Blythe! Don't stop running!"

As the father-and-daughter duo ran outside to the family van, they passed by the Littlest Pet Shop. The seven inhabitants of the day care gazed through the window and, after sharing a glance amongst each other, decided to head on after them. They snuck into the van before it drove off.

* * *

 ** _On one side of Illinois. . ._**

Corey Riffin woke up and slowly stretched, not wanting to slowly strain his muscles. He sat and stood up from his bed, walking into the bathroom; a soothing shower, a tentative teeth brushing, and a decision on dressing duds were just some of the parts of his early morning procedural. A 70s style brown leather jacket, a dark grey long-sleeve collared shirt, a black muscle T-shirt, a pair of blue slim fit jeans, a pair of brown flat-bottomed boots, and a navy blue beanie with black fingerless gloves were his clothes of choice. He slung over his shoulders his black-and-blue backpack as he headed downstairs, out of his house, and into the streets. It was now two weeks after the start of November and before the start of December.

* * *

 ** _On the other side of Illinois. . ._**

Lacey Shadows woke up and slowly stretched, not needing to slowly strain her muscles. She sat and stood up from her bed, walking into the bathroom; not needing to take a shower but brush her teeth, she headed towards her closet afterwards and complimented her clothing choices. A 80s style black leather jacket, black dress with hot pink long sleeves, hot pink leggings beneath black fence net stockings, and a pair of black flat-bottomed boots with matching leather fingerless gloves were the dressing decisions she had made. It was now two weeks after the start of November and before the start of December...just as it was two days after the big breakup and before the small shakedown.

* * *

 ** _Six hours from Illinois. . ._**

Lincoln Loud woke up and swiftly switched, surprisingly not swiftly straining his muscles. He had already taken a shower, brushed his teeth, and decided on his dress code the day before, so he was extremely early as possible. Today was a Friday, the day before Thanksgiving Break, and he was ready to make the most of it. A blue faux leather jacket from _Kenneth Cole_ ©, a thin jet-black zip-up sweater above a plain white T-shirt, a pair of blue skinny jeans with a pair of black and white _Converse_ ® sneakers, and a solid blue baseball cap were his clothes of choice. Two days before the official organization of the terrific Thanksgiving Break...and two days before the official organization of the terrifying idealistic fundraiser that would follow.

* * *

 ** _Two hours to Illinois. . . (In flight hours. . .)_**

Chloe Carmichael woke up and swiftly switched, surprisingly not swiftly straining her muscles. She had already taken a shower, brushed her teeth, and decided on her dress code the hour before, so she could be extremely early as possible as per the course of perfectionism. Today was a Friday, the day before Thanksgiving Break, and she was ready to make the most of it. A black faux leather from _Kenneth Cole_ ©, a baby blue hoodie, a pair of blue slim fit jeans, a pair of pink-and-white _Converse_ ® sneakers, and a purple beret were her clothes of choice. Two days before the official organization of the terrific Thanksgiving Break...and two days before the official organization of the terrifying idealistic fundraiser that would follow.

* * *

Corey turned on his iPod Touch and plugged in his ear buds, playing a random song as he began to listen and silently sung to himself:

 _ **(The Zombies** – **The Way I Feel Inside)**_

Corey slowed his silent singing; he had never heard this song before. He turned on his iPod Touch and read the song description: _**The Way I Feel Inside**_ by _The_ _Zombies_. His interest only increased as he started to silently sing again.

Corey made a mental note to studiously study more on this band and this song in particular. He was closely considering the partial possibility of getting the band back together...almost. He knew that probably won't happen.

Corey realized that he could relate to this short but sweet song; it was a relentless reminder of his long lost love, whom he lost thanks to his seemingly self-aware selfishness. Laney, despite their differences, offered a reconciliation of sorts, but Corey – still believing it was his own fault – readily refused. He could forgive Laney, but he could never forgive himself.

Corey arrived at the school and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight before him: the school in ruins. He rapidly rushed over to the front, not noticing the large crowd murmuring and muttering in confused shock. He found Principal Jackson, who took notice of Corey just as she was turning her head,

"Miss Jackson! What happened here?"

"An assortment of arsonists, it would seem. Fortunately, the arsonists were "saved"; unfortunately, the school wasn't – well, some of it wasn't."

Corey nodded as he glanced at the burnt out building, "They're arrested, right?"

"Well, obviously, Mr. Riffin. That is something that I was fixing to announce in the school auditorium this morning." With that, she walked off and she, along with Vice Principal Johnson, ushered the students to the auditorium; Corey trailed behind the duo and passed by the Newmans, who caught a glimpse of their former frenemy and frowned upon seeing him. It wasn't in contempt, but instead in compassion. Laney Penn, the girl formerly known as the prior passion of Corey Riffin, ambled ahead of her friends/band mates and behind her former flame, who predicted a presence behind him,

"Laney?" Corey's accurate guess made Laney's breath get caught in her throat, and she wished she subsequently sunk into the cold concrete the minute he turned around to face her. The Newmans from afar completely copycatted her actions and nervously watched as the confrontation ultimately unfolded,

"Listen, Core... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for what you had to put up with in the past two years."

"Why are you apologizing? You don't need to."

Laney was clearly confused, but continued on, "Yes, I do, Core. The Newmans and I, especially I... We put your life through a living hell. The moment we realized that we made a mistake was the moment we realized that we began to regret it."

Corey was clearly confused, but continued on, "No, you don't, Laney. You and the Newmans, especially you... You deserved to place my life through a living hell. It was my fault that the neighborhood nearly burned down to the ground after all."

During the confronting conversation, Corey remained completely calm the entire time, something Laney initially interpreted as a sole stoic stare with diminutive dialogue. Before she could speak any further to him, he left her alone with a softening swivel towards her one more time before he walked off to the auditorium, one last time before heading to Downtown City. While it offered her some slight solace, Laney couldn't help but look at Corey and repeat the regretful response,

 _I'm sorry, Core. I'm so, **so** sorry..._

* * *

 _ **(8:00 AM)**_

 ** _On the other side of Illinois. . ._**

Paul Rolston was a self-made man. A basic billionaire at his best, a crucial criminal at his worst. Okay, that part wasn't totally true, but he relentlessly refrained from killing when working with the police on occasion. Sure, he maims and he cripples, but never with lethal intent; however, he was beginning to reconsider his refrain when he heard of his niece's breakup with her rockstar boyfriend. He eventually calmed down when he finally found out the truth: his niece was okay with her boyfriend cheating on her, but she wasn't okay with her boyfriend lying to her. It was because of this mortifying message that she left him, but not before bringing her belongings with her. Some of those belongings were the only things left of what her parents left her.

Lacey Shadows wouldn't have it, either way.

Lacey walked out of her bedroom and into the main room to find her uncle baking breakfast: an American cheese omelet with hash browns and American bacon, to be exact. Lacey lightly laughed at her uncle's attempts to make her comfortable and happy, but it was almost all for naught as she was already comfortable and happy.

It was two days in.

"Hi, Uncle Katz."

Katz turned to find his niece heading towards the kitchen and shot her a sincere smile, "Hello, niece. How are you?"

"Well, I'm not exactly great or good. I'm fine...maybe."

"Do you want me to find him and–?"

"Oh, no, Uncle Katz. He's being through too much; I suppose that's punishment enough."

"I see. Just give me a call whenever you need anything; I need to head to work."

"Alright. Bye, Uncle Katz."

"Bye, Lacey." With that, Katz left the penthouse suite, but not before he placed a peck on Lacey's forehead as if she was seven again. Lacey's light laughter resurfaced at this and she sat down to eat breakfast, turning on the TV while at it. The first thing was a new report concerning the conditions of Peaceville High School:

 ** _"Good morning, I'm Anita Weston and this is my co-anchor Ron Goldman. The state of Illinois is in a state of shock when one of their town's schools – Peaceville High School– was burned down in an act of arson yesterday night at 10 o'clock. The arsonists in question were arrested at the scene of the crime, but their identities have no_** ** _t yet been released. In other news, the Pawza Hotel is searching for an incredible idea for their fun fundraiser, but to no avail..."_**

Lacey frowned upon this information and rubbed her chin, _Why does Peaceville High sound familiar to me? More importantly, why does the Pawza Hotel sound–? Oh...no._

Lacey horked down the rest of her breakfast and snatched up her snatchel; she was almost late for work. _Almost..._

* * *

 ** _Six hours from Illinois. . ._**

 _ **(9:00 AM)**_

"Today is the unofficial start of Thanksgiving Break, and I intend to make the most of it. Of course, you may have already that part in the paragraph above. After school, I'm heading over to Royal Woods Cinema to hang out with Clyde, Gus' Games and Grubs to hang out with Ronnie Anne, and finally Burpin' Burger with my family. After that...it's shopping. _Sucky, sucky_ shopping. And somewhat scary. Then again, that's my family for you."

Lincoln descended from downstairs and found five sisters in the kitchen, five sisters in the living room, and two parents pacing in front of the TV in the living room – a iPhone in Rita's ear and Lynn Sr in the other,

"So, when is the next appointment? ... In twelve hours? ... Oh, that's how long it'll take to get there. Yes, of course. Thank you, Doctor Mooser." Hanging up, Rita turned to her eldest daughter, "Lori! Find Cliff and bring him inside! Everybody else, get ready and head into the family van!"

Lincoln turned to the readers and a grave gulp followed, "I don't like the sound of this."

"You're not supposed to, twerp," Lori appeared out of thin air, the family cat in her arms and a leash, "Now, stop talking to your assumed audience and go outside in the van."

* * *

 _ **(8:00 AM)**_

 ** _At the same time. . ._**

"Mom, Dad! I'm going to school today! See you!"

"See you later, Chloe!" Chloe heard her parents call out in unison. She headed out of her house and walked all the way to school, not believing in the concept of buses enough – or, as Timmy referred to them as, "big, fat Twinkies with wheels." She giggled at the priceless phrase as she slipped on her headphones and played a random song: **_Kiss From A Rose_ ** by _Seal_. She couldn't help but feel that her parents had been ignoring for the past few months since they've moved to Dimmsdale. It's not that she didn't enjoy it (as evidenced by her numerous adventures with her new best friend Timmy Turner), but she didn't not enjoy it either. Last night, she had discovered the plan: they were low on wages and their multiple jobs were compensation. _I have to find a way for them to earn money. Besides... [*Shudder*] But what?_

On the way to school, she passed by a fast food establishment which became noticeable for its superfluous amount of flat-screen TVs. However, if it weren't for said superfluous amount of flat-screen TVs, Chloe wouldn't have seen quite possibly the most important thing that could possibly happen to her:

 ** _"Welcome to the 8:00 news, I'm your anchor Shandra Jimenez. The state of Illinois is in a state of shock when one of their town's schools – Peaceville High School– was burned down in an act of arson yesterday night at 10 o'clock. The arsonists in question were arrested at the scene of the crime, but their identities have no_** ** _t yet been released. In other news, the Pawza Hotel is searching for an incredible idea for their "fun" fundraiser, but to no avail..."_**

 _A fundraiser? At the Pawza Hotel? Hmm..._

 _"Hmm..."_

 _"Maybe so..."_


	2. Chapter 2: Let's Put On A Show!

_**(7:00 PM)/(8:00 PM)/(9:00 PM)**_

 _Twelve hours later..._

Corey parked his black Dodge® Charger R/T in one of the few parking garages in Downtown City. It was just a stroke of luck to pick the one closest to the Pawza Hotel.

Lacey parked her black Triumph® Cruiser in one of the few parking garages in Downtown City. It was just a stroke of luck to pick the one closest to the Pawza Hotel.

The Loud Family arrived at Downtown City and parked Vanzilla in one of the few parking garages in Downtown City. It was just a stroke of luck to pick the one closest to the Pawza Hotel.

 ** _Inside the Pawza Hotel. . ._**

Roger Baxter, his daughter Blythe, and Miss Twombly were speaking with the owner Sophie and her employee Madison concerning the fundraiser for the pet hotel,

"So, is there nothing else we can do?" Blythe crossed her arms.

"Unfortunately, unless anybody else here has an incredible idea for our fun fundraiser... No. So much for one year of a successful run." Madison huffed and pouted, something Miss Twombly wasn't necessarily fond of,

"Oh, Madison, don't lose hope. Surely, there's something we can do."

"Well, I don't mean to say something, but – "

"Dad!" Blythe faced her father and rapidly reprimanded him, "Don't act that pessimistic!"

"You didn't let me finish! Sophie, I think – not _believe_ , there's a difference – that there's a way to save the Pawza Hotel. It's not a bake sale, it's not a movie marathon. Instead, it's...drum roll, please!" Cue the certainly convenient drum roll which caught the guests' attention as Roger made the show-stopping statement:

"A singing competition!"

Corey, Lacey, and the Loud Family stopped dead in their tracks, the people around them at the edge of their seats at what they had just heard.

 _"A singing competition?"_ The trio (Corey, Lacey, and Lincoln) shared the same tentative thought.

 _"A singing competition?"_ Sophie leaned back in awe.

 _"A singing competition?!"_ Blythe leaned back in appalling.

"Yes, you girls! A singing competition!" Roger's outrageous optimism was official, "Just think about it! Everybody in the city has a chance of showing their stuff on live TV! The prize will be...half of your money! How much money do you have again?"

"Around a million," Sophie shrugged.

"Really?" Blythe turned to face the hotel's owner.

"Okay! So, around $500,000! The prize will be $500,000! Believe me, _ANYONE_ can compete! The janitor, the waiters and waitresses, even that kid right over there! Everyone has a chance!"

Lincoln tentatively tensed up at the mention of himself, but his interest in this so-called singing competition increased. He walked to the discussing division, something that Luna noticed and followed him,

"Okay, Dad. One small problem: Who would want to see another one of those?"

"Pretty much everyone! Real talent from real life! I know it's a generic-sounding plot, considering the fundraiser-to-save-an-old-establishment vibe, but it works! It's not supposed to in some, but it does!"

It was confirmed: Roger's official optimism was outrageous, but Blythe was beginning to feel the good vibrations and see the way that her father's plan was plausible.

That, and she didn't want to shatter his spirits, "You know what, Dad? This could work."

A moment later, Sophie nodded, "It could."

Corey and Lacey respectively watched from afar. They watched as a young white-haired boy approached the man who announced the so-called singing competition, "Excuse me, I couldn't help but overhear. You said something about a singing competition? More like **_SCREAM_**?"

"Why, yes sir!" Roger shot up and shook Lincoln's hand, sending him shaking up and down, "My name is Roger Baxter, co-manager of the Pawza Hotel, Downtown City's #1 destination for pets and domesticated animals!"

"I can see that," Lincoln shook his head, the small smile being a result of his firsthand experience of Mr. Baxter's currently over-the-top enthusiasm. He glanced around, "So...about the singing competition. You said there's a $500,000 prize?"

"Why, yes sir!" This time, it was Sophie who claimed Roger's catchphrase and walking beside him, "And you may be who...?"

"Oh, Loud. Lincoln Loud. I may not know much about singing, but my sister is a musician; she can teach me."

"I suppose that's her right behind you?" Lincoln turned to find Luna keeping her guard up as she walked towards him, whom she swiftly turned around in apprehension,

"Bro, what are you doing?"

"Luna, I need to enter this competition and you to teach me."

A blunt "What?" followed soon after.

"Luna, think about it: If I enter this competition and end up winning the prize money, our lives might be much better because of it."

"And if you enter the competition and NOT end up winning the prize money anyway?"

"Well, there's no sense in trying."

Luna frowned upon this; his behavior was strangely similar to that of the video contest five months ago. The same video contest that left her and the rest of the girls not willing to speak to their brother for a few days or more. Then again, he did win them back...enduring the equal embarrassment his sisters suffered through. She felt that she owed him one.

Luna turned towards Sophie, "Lincoln's right: I _can_ teach him. Where does he sign?"

"I'd like to know where to sign as well/I'd like to sign up also," Corey and Lacey both said in unison, a grin gracing both their faces as they walked up to the group, only for their eyes to widen upon them seeing each other.

"Perfect, the more the merrier," Roger said happily, not noticing the look between the English teenager and the leather-clad rocker.

Corey and Lacey continued to look at each other even after Roger turned his attention to the first contestant signing up. Both had almost the same expression as the other: intrigued annoyance.

"Who are you?" Corey was the first to speak.

"Who I am is none of your business, good sir," Lacey crossed her arms in defiance, "The real question is, YOU are who?"

Corey opened his mouth to answer, but decided against it. He instead decided to fight with fire, "Well, the same question with the same answer. I'm not telling you squat."

"Ah, fighting fire with fire, I see," Lacey somewhat broke the fourth wall, "Don't worry. I'll find out sooner or later once contestants start showing up and signing up."

Roger did notice the fanning flames between them both, however, and smirked a sly smirk, "Oh, instant competition. I like it! Keep that up, the both of you!"

Lacey frowned upon Roger's seemingly self aware dimness, but nonetheless continued her heated conversation with Corey, "You listen here, you redundant rocker. You can forget about even trying to win; that first prize is _MINE_!"

From a distance, Chloe poofed into the hotel and saw the two's argument catching the attention of everyone seated around the sign-up table. Not stopping to think twice about listening out for any useful information, she sprinted over and listened as their argument grew louder and louder.

"Listen to me, whoever you are! I don't have to win, I just have to be there!"

"There or not, I'm not letting some _boy_ win first prize!"

"Well, you're one to talk! How do I know you can _sing_?"

Chloe skidded to a stop at the slight sound of that word: _Sing_. _Oh, no. I have...to sing? For a fundraiser? Unless...this fundraiser is actually a Si...Si... [*Gulp*] SINGING COMPETITION! ... No. I can do this. I can sign up. I can...sing._

Chloe walked past the two tense-talking teens and approached Roger, "Excuse me, sir. Is this where you signup for the fundraiser/singing competition?"

Roger glanced down and smiled warmly, "Why, of course, little lady! And your name?"

"Oh, Chloe. Chloe Carmichael."

Roger nodded and gestured Blythe to look his way, "This is my daughter Blythe. She'll have the sign-up sheet ready for you and the rest of the contestants."

 _"What?"_

Corey, Lacey, and Lincoln (acting as proclaimed peacekeeper between the two) looked up from their now antecedent argument and at their new boss in confusion. Sophie rolled her eyes in annoyance, "The reason why you all came here tonight."

 _"Oh!"_

Once Corey, Lacey, Lincoln, and Chloe had all respectively signed the sign-up sheet, they did their respective business at the Pawza Hotel: Lincoln's family visited Doctor Mooser, Lacey helped Madison clean up tables after their guests, Corey consulted with Roger the contents concerning the competition, and Chloe hung out with Blythe after realizing she had only arrived here for the sign-up. When the clock struck ten, they made their way back to their respective vehicles in the garage. Of course, not all of them made it to their vehicles. The one not making it being Lacey, who had followed Corey back to his Dodge Charger. Just as he was about to unlock the car with the key fob, Lacey beat it to the punch.

"Beep, beep," She said with a smirk, getting the beanie-wearing musician's attention.

Turning around, Corey looked to find the blue-haired Brit standing in the dead center of his vision, a smirk gracing her face. Needless to say, seeing her after the lingual lashing that they gave each other wasn't in his top five things to do at the moment.

"What do you want?" He asked simply, frowning at her while she maintained her carefree smirk.

"I just came to tell you something," She said.

"And what would that be?"

"You remind me of the man."

Needless to say, this statement confused Corey greatly.

"What man?"

"The man with the power."

"What power?"

"Power of Hoodoo."

"Hoodoo?"

"You do."

"Do what?"

"Remind me of the man."

It was then that Corey realized that she had caught him in a perpetual lingual loop; a nonstop back-and-forth of verbal vichyssoise. He decided to put a stop to this.

"What was the point of that?"

"Nothing really. I just have a fondness for _fucking_ around with other people's heads."

"... Well, aren't you delightfully rude?"

"I take pride in that, good sir. It's just in my blood."

Lacey suddenly began circling around Corey, who furrowed his eyebrows as he kept both eyes open. "Alright... Your point of our "little" argument a few hours earlier?"

"I told you: I live to mess around with people. Plus, it's been a rough two days for me, so I suggest you keep any witty words to yourself until that time passes, okay?"

"And your reason on why should I listen to you after what happened back there?"

"... No reason. Just trust me."

"Again, your reason?"

"... You can't. That'll be going against your instincts."

"You don't know me. _I_ don't know _you_. I don't have any words for a crazy British girl who has no sense of humility."

"Humility, huh? Not bad coming from the man who nearly burned down his neighborhood on his 16th birthday."

Corey's eyes widened at this mournful memory just as Lacey stopped right behind him, "You're wrong about one thing: _You_ may not know _me_...but _I_ know _you_. Did it ever cross your mind that people still remember what you've done two years ago...even though it was _two years ago_?"

"... I didn't, actually."

"Didn't think so." Lacey began her pacing again, "So, about our "little" argument a few hours earlier... It's not that I have anything against you. Let me put this in a much simpler way you would understand: competitions always end with someone getting eliminated, so I suggest you watch your back...because _they'll_ be chewing on it."

Lacey's smirk faintly faltered, something that didn't go unnoticed by Corey (who pretended to not notice at all), "You have a nice night, will you?"

"... I will."

Lacey was already out of earshot, so Corey was unsure if she heard him or not.

She did, however.

Corey didn't enter his car and instead walked over to the edge of the parking garage, his deep thinking overwhelming him. His contemplation's central concern was the egocentric enigma known as Lacey Shadows. One half of his meddling mind wanted to feel sorry for her, the other half didn't want to. The one and only thing both halves could agree on, though? It seemed that her biting and blunt behavior was masking her correct characteristics. Beneath her sarcastic and sardonic demeanor laid a much more sweet and sour personality.

He still didn't know who she was...in naming terms.

 _Not yet._


End file.
